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You may not have noticed, but there aren't many wedding invitations that shout: "Check it out! Two Italians who met in America are going to get married in Italy." So, Roberto and I decided we'd have to create our own invitations. Sounds lovely, doesn't it? Well, it is - after you've done it.
We chose the Ponte Coperto (Covered Bridge) of Pavia as a primary image for the invitation because it not only represents the location of the wedding but it also symbolizes the transition from single to married life. This particular bridge is also a symbol of endurance. The original Ponte Coperto was destroyed during WWII bombings of Pavia. The Pavese, in love with their bridge and in need of a replacement, constructed an exact replica of the Ponte Coperto, right down to the chapel that sits in the middle of it!
Next, we had to think about color. We haven't established a color scheme for the wedding, so we were free to just go with whatever we liked. When cream-colored envelopes in the size we wanted weren't available, we easily shifted to white.
Handcrafted invitations always run the risk of looking either too girly or too manly - we wanted to avoid both possibilities. My sister Anna suggested a sage green ribbon. Perfect.
Because some of our guests speak English and others speak Italian, we initially thought we'd put both languages on one invitation. Big mistake - that layout shouted "big honkin' mess of text" rather than the "elegantly classic" look we were shooting for. So, we opted for two versions of the invitation, one in each language.
In our naivet� zeal to get the invites printed, we thought we'd do it ourselves on our little ink jet. What a quaint and ridiculous notion. It didn't take us long to realize that we needed a professional printer. We took our work to a reputable printer and before long, we had piles of invitations, announcements, RSVPs and envelopes. Let the assembly begin!
Assembly lines were invented for a very good reason - they speed up the process. We called in friends and family to help us cut and apply the sage green ribbon, stuff envelopes and then address them. Roberto took on a supportive role, keeping our glasses filled and baking fresh focaccia. I, on the other hand, got my first taste of being a frazzled bride.
"Here, let me fix that bow."
"Where are the RSVP cards?"
You get the idea. No one was more mortified than I by my own metamorphosis. I'm glad I saw this potential in myself early. Maybe I can prevent it from emerging again. Or maybe I should just surrender to it and watch the surprised expressions on the faces of my family and friends!
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